“What shall I bring you? 
Please will white do
Best for your wearing
   The long day through?”
“—­White is for weddings,
Weddings, weddings,
White is for weddings,
   And that won’t do.”

“What shall I bring you? 
Please will red do
Best for your wearing
   The long day through?”
" —­Red is for soldiers,
Soldiers, soldiers,
Red is for soldiers,
   And that won’t do.”

“What shall I bring you? 
Please will blue do
Best for your wearing
   The long day through?”
“—­Blue is for sailors,
Sailors, sailors,
Blue is for sailors,
   And that won’t do.

“What shall I bring you? 
Please will green do
Best for your wearing
   The long day through?”
“—­Green is for mayings,
Mayings, mayings,
Green is for mayings,
   And that won’t do.”

“What shall I bring you
Then?  Will black do
Best for your wearing
   The long day through?”
“—­Black is for mourning,
Mourning, mourning,
Black is for mourning,
   And black will do.”

MURMURS IN THE GLOOM (NOCTURNE)

I wayfared at the nadir of the sun
Where populations meet, though seen of none;
   And millions seemed to sigh around
   As though their haunts were nigh around,
   And unknown throngs to cry around
      Of things late done.

“O Seers, who well might high ensample show”
(Came throbbing past in plainsong small and slow),
   “Leaders who lead us aimlessly,
   Teachers who train us shamelessly,
   Why let ye smoulder flamelessly
      The truths ye trow?

“Ye scribes, that urge the old medicament,
Whose fusty vials have long dried impotent,
   Why prop ye meretricious things,
   Denounce the sane as vicious things,
   And call outworn factitious things
      Expedient?

“O Dynasties that sway and shake us so,
Why rank your magnanimities so low
   That grace can smooth no waters yet,
   But breathing threats and slaughters yet
   Ye grieve Earth’s sons and daughters yet
      As long ago?

“Live there no heedful ones of searching sight,
Whose accents might be oracles that smite
   To hinder those who frowardly
   Conduct us, and untowardly;
   To lead the nations vawardly
      From gloom to light?”

September 22, 1899.

EPITAPH

I never cared for Life:  Life cared for me,
And hence I owed it some fidelity. 
It now says, “Cease; at length thou hast learnt to grind
Sufficient toll for an unwilling mind,
And I dismiss thee—­not without regard
That thou didst ask no ill-advised reward,
Nor sought in me much more than thou couldst find.”

AN ANCIENT TO ANCIENTS